Monday, June 04, 2007

I don't usually post about things like being sick. Not that I have any opposition to the topic mind you, I just figure you've seen sickness before, know it well and don't want to be bothered with my own horror stories of my children being ill and doing a Jackson Pollock in the bathroom at three in the morning.

It happens, and it ain't pretty. But this time it wasn't them, it was me. I haven't been sick in over a year--not sure why but there it is. Healthy and happy and feeling good until last week. First Grace, then Andrew, then David, then Lillian, one by one they each did their time and I nursed them back to health until Friday night when I myself started feeling yucky. Not bad, not out and out sick, just rather yucky--"under the weather" as Andrew says. Of course that didn't stop Andrew and I from going out as we normally do on Friday nights and since I wasn't feeling well we decided to opt for a light meal (those who know me well know I can never pass up a chance at food, even when on death's doorstep) and went for sandwiches.

What did I order? A tuna melt. Go figure--I've NEVER ordered tuna in any form, though I've had an occasional tuna sandwich at home. I don't think I've ever ordered seafood period (well maybe shrimp with pasta), it's not my thing but something about feeling a little low had me wanting something warm and lovely with some flavor to get past my rather stuffy nose. That ol' tuna melt just popped out at me and said, "Here I am! Pick me! Oh pick me!"

So I did and it was heavenly. Until about 10 that night when it took a dip in the ratings. Long story short, for the next 48 hours Andrew got much cheap entertainment from sneaking into the bedroom where I lay dying to whisper "Tuna melt!" to me, just to see the groans and pain it brought.

Nice guy. So I didn't eat anything Saturday (and that, my friends is how you know I'm sick, when I don't eat anything) and still by Sunday I wasn't feeling like food. By the evening I'd been able to deal effectively with a few glasses of juice and Spencer, in a burst of Mommy Love, wanted to help me by making up more juice before he and the family headed out for church.

After waking from yet another catatonic stupor I discovered everyone gone and also that I felt rather hungry. Good news, right? That means I'm getting better. Right on schedule, the two-day bug just like the others had, so I swung my legs around to test them and see if I couldn't maybe carefully walk downstairs and get a small bowl of cereal.

The project went fine, I was still pretty weak and shaky but I had the cereal in the bowl--complete with spoon--all ready for milk, and went--still very carefully and weakly--to the refrigerator for the final ingredient. I opened the door, reached for the jug and wouldn't you know it that gallon of juice Spencer had made up (to help mom out) was sitting precariously on the edge of the shelf. I thought, "Wouldn't that be nasty if that fell?" and reached to steady it just as gravity bit and the thing went flying. The pitcher overturned, the lid popped off and it was like the parting of the Red Sea--only in reverse.

If you haven't seen a kitchen covered in strawberry-guava juice you just haven't lived. Walls, cabinets, baseboards, refrigerator, bar stools, nothing was spared its kiss of death including myself. It was like a crime scene and I stood there for a minute, letting the juice trickle down my legs and off my finger tips as the ripples spread to the far reaches of my kitchen and bounced back to schlop against my toes. No one even was there to hear my screams.

Took me half an hour--including moving the refrigerator to mop underneath--to get all that sticky up. It's a good thing the kids weren't there, they would have wondered at the crazy lady covered in pink stains, muttering to herself and slipping around on the kitchen floor.

You know why they say "Don't cry over spilled milk" don't you? It's because juice is so much worse to clean up. Save the tears for the strawberry-guava.

Poor thing. All I could picture was your beautiful brand new kitchen covered in pink juice! I hope you were able to get it all.

I remember when my sweet middle son was 18 months old, he got a can of juice concentrate out of the cabinet and went running through the house. When he got into the living room, where his father was, he threw the can because he knew he shouldn't have it...The can hit the edge of the brick hearth, popped a hole and became a shooting geyser of apple juice concentrate on my new carpet, sofa and freshly painted walls. I fought those stains until we moved out of the house 6 years later!

Consider your kitchen duly christened although bottled water might have been the preferred medium. And juice does hide effectively so that only the ants can find it - follow that trail. Glad to hear you're getting back on your feet.

One of the best desserts I make is a bread pudding with carmel sauce. Once I was getting the carmel sauce out of the fridge and I tropped as I opened it. Carmel went across the floor and up one cupboard.

hahahaha! I found your site via a link on Fiddledeedee and am SO GLAD I DID! :o) Your post today had me in stitches! Never had a bad deal on tuna before, but don't bring trifle past my nose, thank you very much. Mmm... Grrrr...

Oh, I'm so sorry! I hope you are feeling better today. And I don't worry with tears over spilled whatever, I skip right to the complainin'! I hate it when my kids put drinks in the fridge with NO top! Your story is even worse, 'cause his had a top :(

I'm sorry to hear that you were sick. It's definitely worse as and adult than being a kid. Unless you happen to still have YOUR mother nearby just in case, and can wait on you hand and foot.

I have eaten more canned tuna, in tunal salad sandwiches than any ten people will eat in their lifetimes. I love, love, love, tuna salad sandwiches. BUT, I have an extreme aversion to heated tuna. No tuna melts, no tuna casserole, no way Jose.

Don't you hate it when your kid is within striking distance of the toilet and they puke right next to it? Aw man, that's like losing the World Series by one point in the bottom of the ninth inning.

My mother used to make a really strong punch, with coolaid, sugar, pineapple, juice and a freezer. You make the coolaid with about 2/3 the normal water so it has a strong, sweet flavor, and as it freezes, you take it out from time to time to stir it and in up with what we as kids always called Mama's Slush. Lovely Wife makes it and is always drafted to make it in massive amounts for church events. It's a JOB. Anyway, she spilled one one day. Red, slushy, cool aid ice, and about three gallons of it. It was weeks before we stopped finding sticky spots on the floor, red spots on the walls in seemingly impossible places, etc.

Oh my sympathy to you! Cleaning up juice is hard on a good day... would be torture if you were sick!

I cracked up over your husband whispering "tuna melt!" to you.

One time my mother in law accidentally poisoned the whole family with bad beef (the baby and I did not eat any and we were the only ones spared). You know that song "Tainted Love"? Well, I sang it but substituted the words "tainted meat". My husband was not amused.